


Looking Back: Nine Moments That Changed Things

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine little scenes that bring Mulder and Scully closer together from Alpha to all things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Back: Nine Moments That Changed Things

 

 

 

I. Alpha

 

Scully walked out of the office without a backwards glance, leaving Mulder alone to open his mail.  It was obvious to her what he would find in that poster tube and she would rather not watch him open the gift she should have gotten him as soon as their office had been restored.  The thought that Mulder had trusted in and confided in a complete stranger bothered her very much.  The fact that he had his feelings hurt, bothered her much more. 

 

It was a short elevator ride to the parking garage. There were hardly any cars left that late in the day, on a Friday.  Scully spotted Mulder’s car with ease, sitting alone in a corner, which seemed to her like a metaphor, and it gave her pause.  Abandoned.  Solitary. Lonely.  Sighing deeply, Scully opened the door to her own car and slipped behind the wheel.

 

For the next ten minutes, Scully sat with her key in the ignition, hands on the steering wheel, eyes on Mulder’s car in her rear-view mirror.  She couldn’t bring herself to leave and she couldn’t bring herself to go back to the office either. Instead, she simply sat still, contemplating. She did not want to be added to that growing list of women that had taken advantage of Mulder’s trust and left him deserted.  Six years of watching his back was more than enough to earn her a little credit, but she intended to keep her track record. 

 

Slowly, Scully opened her door and tugged her bag across the seat with her, almost as if in a trance.  She locked her car door and slipped the keys into her coat pocket. Her footsteps echoed off the cement walls of the garage as she made her way over to Mulder’s car. Her eyes drifted to the scrape of white paint marring the side of the rear bumper.  He was supposed to get that fixed ages ago.

 

Scully turned once she reached Mulder’s car, pulled her overcoat a little tighter as she leaned back against the driver’s door, and set her bag next to her feet.  She crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her hands under her armpits for warmth.

 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before Mulder appeared, shuffling slowly off the elevator, head down, jacket thrown over one shoulder. One hand was shoved in his pocket and he jiggled his keys as he crossed the garage.  Scully stayed silent and Mulder didn’t see her until he was about ten feet from her and raised his head.

 

For a long while, they stared at each other. She let her arms hang loose, non-threatening, and kept her gaze as serene and calm as possible. Some days she might say their situation was precarious.  If he caught even the faintest hint of pity in her eyes, even if it didn’t exist, he would tell her to go home and they wouldn’t speak again until Monday. She knew because she would do the same.

 

Finally, Mulder stepped towards her and pulled his hand out of his pocket.  Scully straightened and tipped her head back, chin up, as Mulder invaded her space. He swung his jacket up under his arm, holding it to his side with his elbow and then picked up Scully’s hand and placed his keys in her palm.  He closed her fingers over his keys and his whole hand covered hers for a few beats before he swung his jacket back over his shoulder and turned from her, heading around the back of the car to the passenger side.

 

Scully picked up her bag and unlocked the doors of the car for both of them before sliding into the driver’s seat. She had to adjust everything for her height; mirrors, seat, steering wheel.  Mulder too, pushed back the passenger seat to make room for his longer legs. As she put the key in the ignition, she glanced over at Mulder.  He sat reclined in his seat, eyes closed.

 

“Mulder?”

 

“Hm?”  He grunted softly, eyes still closed.

 

“Where would you like to go?”

 

“You’re in the drivers’ seat, Scully.”

 

Scully paused, her hand poised to turn the key and start the car.  She looked at Mulder, seemingly far more at peace than she’d left him in the office. Pride surged through her at being the one he trusted to relinquish control to, but it also scared her, having that kind of power with someone.  Swallowing heavily, Scully turned her gaze to the windshield, blinking rapidly to clear the tears she felt coming on.  Suddenly, it felt as though her intentions had been reversed back on her. She stayed because she thought Mulder might need her.  Sitting with him, it felt like she needed him more.

 

Mulder opened his eyes when enough time had passed and Scully hadn’t started the car.  “Scully?”

 

“Sorry,” Scully said, jumping in surprise and then fumbling with the keys.

 

Mulder put his hand on her wrist and she held her breath.  “You could tell me we’re going to Florida,” he said, “and I’d say my overnight bag is in the trunk. You could tell me we’re going to Switzerland, and I’d say, good thing my passport is in the glove compartment. Scully, you could tell me we’re going to McDonalds and I’d say I love French fries.” 

 

It was quiet for the next few moments and Mulder ran his thumb over the side of Scully’s wrist.  She sniffed lightly and then inclined her head towards him, but cast her eyes down to his knees.

 

“You know I don’t like McDonalds,” Scully said.

 

Mulder smiled at her and her lips curled slightly as well.

 

“You could also just tell me you’re taking me home,” Mulder said.

 

“And what would you say to that?”

 

“I’d say, maybe you’d like to come up for awhile. Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be?”

 

Scully shook her head and Mulder slid his hand away from hers, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes again. He sighed softly and settled back against the seat.  Scully turned the key and started the car.

 

****************************************

 

II. Milagro

 

Mulder closed his eyes in relief as Scully was startled into consciousness.  She reached for him and he pulled her close, hugging her to his chest.  Her hands clawed his back, trying to bring him closer, but slipping as she struggled for the strength to hold on.  Her sobs were painful for him to hear.  Moreover, they scared him.

 

He didn’t know what to do.  He didn’t know what he was entitled to do in this situation. Lines had started to blur for them recently.  After the weekend Scully had taken him home from the office, they’d been moving closer to something that felt like middle school romance.  They spent time together away from work, getting to know each other on a more personal level.  Scully told him stories from high school.  Mulder told her stories from summer camp.  She leaned against him when they watched movies together on his couch. He had kissed her good night before leaving, twice, on the corner of her mouth, and took it as a positive sign that she’d smiled both times when he pulled away and not given him any suspicious looks in return.

 

This newfound closeness played a big part in why he’d felt so standoffish with her from the start of this Padgett case. He’d balked at her blatant intrigue for his neighbor, especially when Padgett was just a neighbor and not even a suspect. He wouldn’t say he was jealous, per se, but he was offended by it, and probably handled it badly. Padgett himself hadn’t helped matters with his too intimate insight into Scully’s psyche and descriptive fantasy.

 

So now here they were, Scully covered in blood, felled in the line of duty, and Mulder had no idea how much comfort he was allowed to give her.  He wanted to do the right thing, he just didn’t know what the right thing was. His knees made part of the decision for him, aching from being pressed into his wood floor.  He shifted, keeping Scully against him as he maneuvered his legs out in front of him in a seated position.  With cautious ease, he was able to pull Scully up and slide her into the space between his legs, with her knees folded up and over his thigh. She gripped him tighter, one arm clamping down over his shoulder as she hid her face against his neck.

 

“Scully,” Mulder whispered into her ear, hoping she could hear him over her own sobs. 

 

Scully gasped as though she couldn’t catch her breath, even as her tears slowed.  Mulder simply held on, making a conscious effort to keep himself relaxed, hoping it would be a calming influence.  He had her wrapped in his arms, loosely but completely, one knee bent and supporting her back with his forearm around her shoulders, holding her head against him while the other arm snaked across her lower back.

 

The crying stopped first, her breathing faded into something akin to normal and then the trembling stopped.  Scully’s arm slid down from the back of Mulder’s shoulder and her hand came to rest against his neck.  Mulder thought she might pull away from him then, but she stayed where she was. He only realized once she became so still in his arms that he had been rocking her gently back and forth, ever so slightly.

 

“Mulder?” Scully croaked.  She wet her lips and then swallowed.  Mulder stopped his rocking and moved his arm down, letting Scully’s head fall back just slightly so he could look at her. He wiped away the wet strands of hair that clung to her cheek and tucked it back over her ear. For a quick second, he felt like he was back in Antarctica, willing her to breathe.  She had the same slightly glassy look in her eyes and her lips looked parched.

 

“Let me get you a glass of water,” Mulder said. He bent his head to kiss her cheek and her eyes fluttered shut.  Salty tears lingered on his lips.  Slowly, he unwrapped himself from around Scully and stood, moving quickly to the kitchen for a glass of water.  His front door was still wide open and he quietly pushed it shut and turned the lock. When he returned, Scully was on her feet, staring at her bloody clothes.

 

“Scully?”

 

Scully looked up at Mulder, confusion etched in the lines on her forehead.  Her gaze immediately dropped to Mulder’s chest and he looked down at his own blood-stained sweater. Slowly, he brought the water over to her and put it in her hand, closing her fingers around the glass and holding them there.

 

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up?” Mulder asked.

 

Scully nodded, turning on shaky legs and heading down Mulder’s hall.  She paused and took a step back, speaking at the wall.  “Do you still have the medical bag I asked you to keep?”

 

“Somewhere.  I’ll find it.”

 

Scully gave another brief nod and then she disappeared. Only a few moments later he heard his shower turn on and he looked around the room, wondering what he should do. Scully’s gun was on the floor and he bent to inspect it.  There was blood on the handle.  He turned his head, guessing at the trajectory of where her aim might have been and found the bullet holes in his wall, high up by the ceiling.  Taking no precautions, he picked up the gun and moved to the surveillance station they’d set up on his coffee table, setting it down next to the equipment. He checked the feed on their camera to see if Padgett had returned to his apartment.  The mysterious neighbor was nowhere in sight, and Mulder hoped he wouldn’t see him again.

 

Mulder knew exactly where Scully’s medical bag was. She made him keep one in his apartment because she was tired of coming over unprepared to treat his scrapes and bruises.  It was in his kitchen, purposefully stored under the sink so Scully could reach it if she needed it. He retrieved the bag and then changed out of his bloodied clothes and found a t-shirt and sweats that Scully could wear after her shower.

 

Mulder gathered everything together and then knocked on the door to the bathroom before he opened it.  Steam hit him in the face as it billowed out the door. “I’m putting your bag on the sink,” he said.  “And I brought you something to wear.”  He could see the dark outline of her body in the frosted glass on the shower stall door, standing very still.

 

“Thank you,” Scully answered quietly, her voice echoing off the tiles.

 

Mulder shut the door and leaned back against it for a few moments before heading back to the living rom.  A short time later, Scully came out of the bathroom, wet hair slicked back, wearing the grey shirt and black sweats Mulder had left for her. She joined Mulder on the couch, sitting on her knees, facing him.  Her stethoscope was draped over her neck and she pulled it down from around her shoulders and inserted the eartips into her ears.  Leaning closer to Mulder, she took the collar of his shirt and pulled it aside, sliding her hand inside and holding the chestpiece against Mulder’s heart. She closed her eyes and Mulder watched her face.  Time passed and she said nothing.

 

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Mulder asked.

 

“Shh…”

 

Mulder took a slow, deep breath and let it out quietly. Scully finally slid her hand out of his shirt, removing the stethoscope from her ears, and slumped down against the cushions, her knees folded up and her head turned to Mulder, nearly resting against his shoulder.  The stethoscope dangled from one hand.  Mulder reached for it, turning and giving her a questioning look and she gave a permissive nod in return. He affixed the eartips in his own ears.  They were uncomfortable and tight.  He placed the chestpiece on Scully’s chest, a little too high and near her shoulder.  Scully shook her head a little and moved his hand away.  She pulled down the collar of her t-shirt and exposed the flat plane of pale skin above her breast and guided Mulder’s hand to her heart.

 

Mulder closed his eyes and listened. The quick thump-thump of Scully’s heartbeat was so loud in his ears that he could almost feel it. His own heart lurched in his chest, trying to keep time with Scully’s.  It felt oddly intimate to sit quietly and listen to her heartbeat. Slowly, he pulled the eartips away and leaned forward to place the stethoscope on the coffee table.

 

“I could feel his hand,” Scully whispered. “Inside me.  Under my ribs.  I felt his fingers on my heart.”

 

“Scully…”

 

“It hurt,” she said.  “It hurt so badly.  I couldn’t have imagined it.”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

Scully stared at Mulder with wet eyes. She moved her knees down and lifted her shirt up, raising it over her ribs to just under her breasts. Mulder held Scully’s gaze until she dropped her eyes and then he looked down at her abdomen, unblemished save for the too recent surgical scar from the gunshot wound she’d sustained in New York. Fucking Agent Ritter, Mulder thought, reaching out and touching the line of pink, slightly puckered skin near her belly button, relieved that Scully didn’t flinch or push him away.

 

“How do I explain this?” Scully asked. “How do I explain how a man could force his hand into my chest and there’s not a mark on me, Mulder? How do I explain how my shirt is covered with my blood, yet I’m not bleeding?”

 

“You mean how do you apply a scientific explanation to it?”

 

Scully dropped her t-shirt and then wiped a tear off her cheek.  “Where’s Padgett?” she asked.

 

Mulder pulled his hands into his lap and tipped his head back against the couch.  “I don’t know,” he answered, shaking his head.  “I don’t care.”

 

“You don’t care?”

 

Mulder looked at her, scanning her face. No, he didn’t care if he ever saw the man that had the audacity to put into written form all the secrets thoughts he’d had about his partner for the last six years.  Scully had denied that Padgett had gotten into her head, but Mulder felt like the man had climbed into his own brain and stolen his life. He was angry at the invasion for himself and for Scully, but he was also envious that Padgett had the courage to write it down.  He reached for her, taking her face in his hands for just a few moments.

 

“I care,” he said.  “About you.”

 

Before Scully could say anything in return, Mulder put his arm around her and pulled her closer.  She brought her head down and laid it against Mulder’s chest and he sighed.  He hoped she could hear his heart beating and that it was more a more preferable to her than the stethoscope.

 

****************************************

 

III. The Unnatural

 

“Bucket’s empty!” the kid called, tugging at the brim of his cap.

 

Scully felt disappointed at the thought their batting practice was over.  She savored the last few moments of having Mulder wrapped around her and his warmth. He pulled away from her slowly, taking one hand off the bat first and giving her a squeeze on the hip. She took over handling of the bat and he jogged up to the pitcher’s mound.

 

Taking a few soft swings with the bat, Scully chuckled to herself.  She’d grown up in the middle of two brothers, if Mulder thought she didn’t know how to play baseball, he didn’t know her at all.  But, Mulder knew her very well.  Scully smiled at the thought.  When Mulder turned back from the kid, Scully jutted her chin out and pointed at a lone baseball only a few feet away from him.

 

“Pitch me one,” Scully said.

 

Mulder scooped up the ball and moved closer to the batting area.  Scully swung the bat up and let it hover by her shoulder as she found a comfortable grip. The kid had run off towards right field, collecting balls in a bucket. 

 

“Keep your eye on the ball,” Mulder called.

 

“I thought the mantra was hands before hips,” she called back, quirking her brow at him.

 

Mulder laughed and prepared a slow underhand throw. He gave her a soft pitch and when Scully connected the bat with the ball, it landed with a loud crack and the ball soared into left field.  She smiled proudly and Mulder watched the ball fly into the air. They both watched it land and then Mulder walked over to her, shaking his head a little.

 

“I don’t suppose I’m just a very good teacher?” Mulder asked.

 

“I could let you think that.”

 

“Come on, Scully.”  Mulder took the bat from her and led her off the field to a picnic table just past the fencing and beyond the bleachers.  There was a duffle bag on the table with some extra baseball equipment.  “Sit,” Mulder said, taking Scully’s hand so she could step up on the bench and sit on the table. He stuffed all the equipment into the duffle bag and zipped it up while she watched the kid run around the field collecting baseballs.

 

“Close your eyes,” Mulder said.

“Why?”

 

“Because I said so.”

 

Scully rolled her eyes before she closed them, waiting for something to happen.  She heard a snap and what sounded like ice crashing against ice.  It was quiet for a few moments and she began to grow impatient.

 

“Mulder, wh-“

 

“Open ‘em,” Mulder said.

 

Scully opened her eyes and saw the flame on a single, pink candle buried in the center of a pint of ice cream. Mulder grinned at her, moving the ice cream closer to her.

 

“What’s this?” Scully asked.

 

“Make a wish.”

 

“A wish?”

 

“It’s your very early, very late birthday, Scully. You have to make a wish.”

 

Scully hesitated.  Her mind was blank on what to wish for, but she blew the candle out anyway. Mulder brandished a plastic spoon, shoving it into the ice cream before removing the candle.  He handed her the ice cream and then sat down beside her. Scully held the tub up to look at it.

 

“Double fudge chocolate brownie?” she asked.

 

“I won’t tolerate those tasteless Tofutti blah-sicles on your birthday, Scully, I just won’t tolerate it.”

 

“It’s not my birthday, Mulder.”

 

“Well, it’s someone’s birthday.” Mulder reached over and took a spoonful of the ice cream, making a dramatic noise of appreciation when he put it in his mouth.  “Besides,” he said around the spoon, “I know this is your favorite, I’ve seen it in your freezer.”

 

Scully was glad it was probably too dark to see the blush that spread across her cheeks.  There was always a tub of chocolate ice cream in her freezer for those days out of the month where she just wanted to come home, curl up on the couch and cry into her dessert while watching sappy melodramas.  No one was supposed to know that, especially not Mulder.

 

Mulder took another spoonful of ice cream and this time held it up to Scully’s mouth.  “You know you want it,” he said.

 

She did.  She did want it.  With a sigh, Scully took the spoon into her mouth and closed her eyes.  When she opened them, Mulder was smirking and holding up another spoon, which she snatched out of his hand in resignation.

 

“Cheers,” Mulder said, tapping his spoon with the one Scully now held.

 

For every three bites of the ice cream Mulder took, Scully had one as well.  She held the pint for them and whenever Mulder took a scoop, he put his hand over hers, tipping the tub towards him.  A few times their spoons collided, and Mulder playfully pushed her spoon back to get to the bite first.  There was still more than half a pint left when Scully stopped taking spoonfuls and simply held the ice cream for Mulder’s enjoyment. 

 

At some point, as she looked out at the baseball field and at the stars in the sky, Scully became acutely aware of Mulder’s proximity and the press of his thigh against her own and his long fingers covering hers over the pint of ice cream.  She remembered the feel of his chest against her back and his arms around her body not ten minutes prior and her heart sped up.  She grew warm all over.

 

“Hey,” Mulder said, interrupting the silence that had prevailed.  “What’re you thinking?”

 

Scully swallowed and took one hand off the tub of ice cream to touch her flushed cheek.  It cooled her skin slightly and she cleared her throat.  “I’m thinking that…I don’t know what I’m thinking. I’m thinking…I’m thinking that you know me too well.”

 

Mulder leaned forward and rested his arm on his knee, his grip tight on his spoon.  “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, turning to look at her.  There was something in his expression that reminded her of a small child seeking approval. 

 

“No,” she answered softly, giving him a smile to keep the mood light.  

 

Mulder’s eyes traveled from Scully’s eyes to her mouth and seemed to stay there.  Her heart continued to thud rapidly in her chest, so hard it almost hurt. Her lips parted unconsciously and she had to look away, nerves getting the better of her.

 

“Mulder, I wa-”

 

“Hey, Mister,” the kid called, lugging a bucket full of baseballs around the side of the fence and trudging towards them. “I think I got ‘em all.”

 

Mulder shoved his spoon into the ice cream tub and slid off the picnic table.  Scully dug her own spoon into the melting ice cream beside Mulder’s and set the tub behind her on the table.  The interruption gave her a chance to collect herself.  She turned the backs of both hands to her flaming cheeks, patting them lightly with the press of her knuckles.  She couldn’t hear the conversation Mulder had with the kid, but she saw him take out his wallet and then it was over and the kid was leaving, dragging the bucket of baseballs with him.

 

Mulder came back to the picnic table and sat down beside Scully again.  She lowered her hands to her lap and pressed her clasped hands between her knees.

 

“What were you about to say?” Mulder asked.

 

Scully shook her head.  “Nothing.”

 

“Oh.”  Mulder tapped his fingers together a few times and took a deep breath.

 

Scully rubbed her sweaty palms over the front of her pants, down from the top of her thighs to her knees and back. “Okay, it’s just that I’m…I’m a little apprehensive,” she said.

 

“Of what?”

 

Scully searched for something more specific to reply with than simply ‘everything.’  She looked to Mulder and had to avert her eyes from his questioning stare. Instead, she stared at his mouth. Her own mouth felt dry. When she licked her lips, she tasted chocolate.  “Ice cream,” she said.

 

“You’re apprehensive of ice cream?”

 

Scully nodded slowly and rolled her eyes up to the stars.  She took a deep breath. “The ice cream scares me.”

 

“All kinds of ice cream or just the chocolate brownie?”

 

Scully hesitated.  She wanted to tread very carefully in this conversation, however vague it might be, lest Mulder get the wrong idea and become offended. “My answer is yes,” she said. “All kinds of ice cream, but especially, and in particular, the chocolate brownie.”

 

“I see,” Mulder said, nodding down at his chest with his eyes closed.  “May I ask why?”

 

“Because…I rely on it too much.”

 

“I don’t think anyone would call chocolate brownie reliable.”

 

“It is to me,” Scully said, softly. “And I love it too much to-”

 

“You love it?” Mulder interrupted.

 

“You know that I do.”

 

“No, I don’t think I did.”  Mulder looked down at his hands, but Scully could see a small smile on his face.  “What do you love it too much to do?”

 

Scully shrugged a little and expelled a soft breath. “To take it out of the freezer,” she answered.  “It feels safer to me there.  And it’s been a very long time since I’ve taken any ice cream at all out of the freezer, Mulder. I might not know what to do with it.”

 

“I don’t think that’s true.”  Mulder sighed a little and stared out at the empty baseball field. “Scully, whenever you’re ready to open the freezer, the chocolate brownie will be there.”

 

“Will it?” she asked.  “Because things tend to get freezer burned if they’re in there for too long.”

 

“Are we talking about being in the freezer forever? Or will that door open some day?”

 

Scully dared to look over at Mulder and into his eyes. She did, in fact, want to explore something deeper with Mulder, but she was hesitant to ruin the best relationship she’d ever had.  She would rather have Mulder as a friend forever than an ex-lover, because in her experience, all things came to an end.  Mulder, as usual, was willing to take the risks, and Scully, as usual, proceeded with caution.

 

“I do want to open that door, Mulder. I think I just need a little time.”

 

“Okay, then.”  Mulder leaned over and bumped his shoulder with Scully’s.

 

Scully relaxed a little.  She felt like they were on the same page, however cryptically they got there. She was grateful for Mulder’s patience.  She figured maybe she should return the consideration by taking a small risk of her own, just to let him know she appreciated it.

 

Slowly, and with much hesitation, Scully tilted her head and let it rest against Mulder’s shoulder.  She put her arm through his and rested her hand over his hand. Mulder gave a twist of his wrist and spread his fingers apart, waiting.  After a small pause, Scully slid her fingers through his and Mulder gave her hand a light squeeze.

 

“Happy early, late birthday, Scully.”

 

****************************************

 

  1.   Per Manum



 

God dammit, Mulder thought. God dammit all.

 

The sun was low in the sky when Mulder reached the benches lining the banks of the Potomac.  Any other day, he might have stopped to admire the view of the Washington Monument at sunset, but it was lost on him.  He sat down wearily, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. His whole life had been marked by disappointment so it was typical that just when he felt like he was making progress with Scully, they would fall two steps back for one step forward.

 

He knew he should have told Scully about her ova, but first there had been the cancer, and then there had been Emily and then Diana had driven a wedge between them and so on and so on. Of course there really wasn’t ever a good time to explain to someone that you’d found a vial of their ova lying around, but he knew he should not have kept it from her for so long. The trust it had taken so long to build between them was shattered and it was all his fault. He assumed the reason she’d asked him to meet him at their bench was to tell him it was over and he didn’t know if this time he’d be able to convince her to stay.  The look she’d given him as the elevator doors slipped closed made him wonder if she’d ever even speak to him again.

 

“Mulder,” Scully said, approaching from behind and interrupting his brooding.

 

“Scully,” he answered, tipping his head back and tracking her movements around the bench to sit beside him.

 

They both sat quietly, watching the slow moving river. Mulder tried to think of something to tell her other than he was sorry.  He looked at Scully and he wanted to cry he felt so terrible and he wondered how it could hurt so much to lose something he’d never really had. He studied her face, not caring if she could feel him staring at her, but he needed to memorize every detail for the future.  Her gaze out over the water was serene, but her jaw was tense, probably because her chin was tucked down just a little lower than usual.  He wished it were still light enough to see the freckles on her nose.

 

Scully turned to look at Mulder, first with her eyes and then with a jerk of her head.  He averted his stare, bracing himself for the inevitable.  He knew he couldn’t look at her when she told him it was over. Not so long ago she’d told him she relied on him and that she loved him.  Maybe it hadn’t been a direct declaration of love, but it was enough of one to give him hope.  Hope that he had killed.

 

“Mulder, I asked you here because there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

 

Mulder nodded.

 

“And I hope that you’ll just listen,” she said. “I just want you to listen to me.”

 

“Okay, Scully.” Mulder swallowed and braced himself.

 

“I know you must think I’m angry with you right now. And I am angry, but not with you. Do I wish you’d told me sooner? Yes.”  Scully nodded and sighed.  “I wish you’d told me sooner.  But, we can’t change that now and if the situation were reversed, I don’t know that I would know how to start that conversation with you.”

 

Scully paused and took a deep breath. “Mulder, every time I uncover yet another consequence from my abduction, I am faced with the harsh reality that choices were taken away from me for reasons we still have not been able to learn. You know that I can’t remember anything from the time I lost, but I counted on you to help me with those gaps, not keep me from the missing pieces, however hard it might be.”

 

“Scully…” Mulder inclined his body towards her and reached for her hand.  He felt a strong surge of relief when she returned the squeeze of his grip.

 

“Mulder, I should tell you that I had a reason for investigating my infertility.  One that I feel I’m forced to tell you now, that I wasn’t prepared to share with you at this time, but it’s now become a matter of urgency.”

 

Mulder held his breath.  He assumed the reason she’d been going to her doctor so often the past few weeks was from the side effects they’d both suffered from the yellow acid in North Carolina.  He had thought nothing of it until now. “Scully are you…is the cancer…”

 

“I’m fine, Mulder.”  Scully slipped her hand out of Mulder’s and brought it to her lap. She looked out at the water again. “The way things are between us, how they are now, where it might be going, it’s made me think about what I might want for the future.  What you might want from me, or could expect.”

 

Mulder opened his mouth, but then held his tongue.

 

“I was hoping that I might be able to offer you…us…something we may have both thought we would never have.”

 

“You are all I want, Scully.”

 

Scully closed her eyes and slowly exhaled a controlled breath.  “Which is why I need you to just hear me in this moment and I don’t want you to say anything.”

 

Mulder clenched his jaw and shoved his hands back into his trench coat, balling them into fists.

 

“My doctor analyzed the vial you gave to me and he believes that the ova may in fact be viable.  But, my window is short.  The longer I wait my odds decrease exponentially.  When I thought that I might want a child in the future, the future wasn’t exactly immediately, but this is the reality I face now and I don’t know if I can turn away from the opportunity.”

 

“Carpe diem.”

 

Scully looked sharply at Mulder. Mulder’s shoulder’s slumped. He knew it was not the right time to joke.

 

“You’re leaving the X-Files?” he asked.

 

“Is that what you think I’m saying?”

 

“It would be a way to explore other opportunities.”

 

“Mulder, what I’m saying is…obviously I can not conceive a child alone.  I’m asking if you’d consider…I’m asking for your help.”

 

“Oh.”  Mulder blinked in surprise.

 

Scully tipped her chin down and her gaze settled somewhere near Mulder’s knees.  “I wouldn’t hold it against you if you say no,” she said.  “And I don’t want you to feel obligated, now or ever. I realize it’s more than a simple favor and that I’m asking for it at a time when things between us might seem complicated or unsure.  That’s my fault.”

 

Mulder couldn’t resist any longer, he pulled his hand out from his pocket and reached over to Scully, brushing her cheek with his fingertips and then turning her jaw towards him. She only met his eyes for a moment and then she stood, pulling her overcoat tightly around her waist.

 

“I don’t need an answer from you right now,” Scully said.  “In fact, I would rather you give it some thought.  But, I will need to know soon.  I’m leaving tomorrow morning and I won’t be home until Wednesday night, and not for any other reason than my mother’s sister broke her arm yesterday and I’m driving my mother down to North Carolina to be with her.  I only found out this afternoon.”

 

“Scully…”

 

“It’s just bad timing.”

 

“It never seems to be good timing with us. Does it?”

 

Scully paused and gripped the back of the bench for a few moments.  “I’ll see you Thursday, Mulder.”

 

Mulder watched Scully walk away from him until she disappeared into the shadows of nightfall.  He sat back, stunned and more than a little confused. Scully could ask him to help her have a baby, even admit to him that she had him in mind when checking into the possibility, but she still refused to verbalize just what exactly her feelings were for him.  He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to say yes, and he didn’t want to say no.  He didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t want to win her by offering half of his DNA. He didn’t believe her when she said his answer wouldn’t change things between them.  Yes or no, everything would change.

 

God dammit, Mulder thought, closing his eyes. How far back would he stumble if he took a giant leap forward?

 

****************************************

 

V. Biogenesis

 

Scully stalked away from Skinner and Fowley, furious with them both.  She didn’t have time to argue with either of them, however, what she needed was to find a doctor in the facility that was willing to help her.  She finally did, and with extreme reluctance and not without first cautioning her about the risks of entering a room with a quote-unquote lunatic with violent outbursts, she was allowed into the padded cell with Mulder. Two orderlies stood behind her at the door, their arms crossed defiantly, watching Mulder beat his head against the padded wall in the far corner.

 

“Leave us,” Scully ordered over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off of Mulder, who had turned at the sound of her voice, wincing and holding his hands over his ears.  His face contorted as though he was suffering a severe migraine. His eyes bulged. The veins in his temples throbbed visibly.

 

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” one of the men said.

 

“I know perfectly well what I’m doing. Leave us.”

 

“You’re as crazy as he is,” responded the second orderly, before slamming the door shut.

 

“Mulder?”  Scully asked, quietly taking a tentative step forward.

 

Mulder had fallen to his knees before the door was slammed. He came down on his side, still holding his head, and rolled to his back.  Scully got down on her knees and then crawled towards him until she was close enough to reach out and put her hand on his cheek.  Mulder grabbed onto it, holding her wrist tightly with one hand and pressing her palm hard against his jaw.

 

“Mulder,” Scully whispered, slipping her legs out and folding them under her.  She lifted Mulder’s head onto her lap and put an arm over his chest to try to hold him as best she could.  “Tell me what’s happened to you.”

 

Mulder squinted up at her.  His mouth moved but he made no sounds.  His gaze was piercing, as though he wasn’t just staring into her eyes, but into her mind.  He had the look of someone listening in deep concentration. 

 

“I need you to tell me, Mulder. I don’t know how to help you if you can’t tell me what’s wrong.”

 

Mulder’s nostrils flared and his stare persisted. She could feel him trying to tell her something as she stared back, but she didn’t know what.  He still held on to her quite tightly and her fingers were growing numb under his grip.  It hurt, but she couldn’t ask him to let go because he was holding on to her like she was his lifeline.  Suddenly he relaxed his hold and she slipped her hand out from under his to stroke his hair.

 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,” Scully whispered.  Mulder just stared.

 

Scully sighed in frustration and pulled Mulder against her a little more.  She was at a loss and she didn’t have much time to spare.  Sooner or later one of the doctors was going to come back and have her removed and she also needed to get to the bottom of what Fowley and Skinner were up to. Staying with Mulder was only keeping him calm for the moment, but she could also tell it wasn’t helping.

 

What do I do? She thought.  She closed her eyes and thought of all those times she had been in anguish and the only thing that made her feel safe was Mulder. She remembered each and every moment with clarity; waking up after thinking her heart had been ripped from her chest, the moment she knew she would not be Donnie Pfaster’s next victim, his hold on her when she’d just been witness to the death of Penny Northern, losing Emily, her failure to conceive.  She could go on and on.  She would never be able to convey to Mulder exactly how he made her feel with words, but if she could do it now, she would.  If she could get him to feel the way he made her feel, even for a little while, she might not worry so much about having to leave him there to find a way to help him.

 

Scully opened her eyes and found that Mulder’s eyes were closed.  His face was relaxed and peaceful.  It appeared as though he’d fallen asleep.  She rubbed his chest, wondering if the sedatives had finally kicked in. Mulder’s eyelids fluttered and he looked up at Scully.  His lips curled into a serene smile.

 

“Mulder?” Scully whispered. “I’m going to find a way to get you out of here. I promise.” Just hold on for me, she thought. Hold on. It looked like Mulder nodded.

 

 

****************************************

 

VI. The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati

 

Mulder listened to Scully’s heels on the floor of his hallway, moving away from him.  After everything that had just happened, he found it hard to believe she could walk away.  He had seen her thoughts, the images in her head as clear as if he were watching a movie. He had heard her voice, whispering things to him while her mouth never moved.  He was tired of her apprehension and he didn’t know what more he had to do to get her to open up.

 

“So, that’s it,” Mulder said, stepping into the hallway and speaking to Scully’s back.  “You’re just going to walk away?”

 

Scully stopped, her finger poised to press the call button on the elevator.  She punched it hard with her thumb and her spine grew rigid as she brought her hands to her hips.

 

“Scully.”

 

“What do you want from me, Mulder?”

 

“I want you to turn around and look at me.”

 

The elevator doors opened with a quiet ding. They closed after a few moments, empty. Scully’s shoulders slumped slightly and she bent her head, bringing her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose, one hand still on her hip.  She lifted her head again, inhaling sharply through her nose and putting her fist back on her hip.  She turned around, but her eyes were on the floor.

 

“Get over here, Scully,” Mulder said, using the same weakly compelling tone he used to call her over to play baseball with him.

 

Scully slowly moved forward and Mulder met her halfway. He put his arms around her and she moved her head to rest it against his shoulder.  “Déjà vu,” he said, and he couldn’t tell if Scully let out a short laugh or a sob.  She turned her face and pressed her forehead against his chest.

 

“Come inside,” Mulder said.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You can. You won’t.”

 

“Once we go forward, Mulder, we can’t go back.”

 

“I don’t want to go back.”

 

“Mulder, if I fail at this, I lose everything,” Scully whispered.

 

“You can’t win or lose if you don’t even play the game.”

 

“It’s not a game.”

 

“You’re right, it isn’t.  But, I guess I’m just wondering, after all we’ve been through, why that damn freezer door is still shut.”

 

Scully sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. She didn’t answer and the hallway remained quiet.  Mulder brushed his fingertips over the side of Scully’s face. “I’m afraid of the same things you are,” he said.

 

“Is this where you tell me the only thing to fear is fear itself.”

 

Mulder took his baseball cap off and then pushed Scully’s head back.  He gave her a small kiss on the corner of her mouth.  “This is where I tell you to go home and I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, pressing another brief kiss to where his lips had lingered. 

 

Scully dropped her forehead back to Mulder’s chest when he let her go.  She placed her flattened palms against his shoulders, but he took her hands and pushed her away as he stepped back.  Only a short time ago he had looked into her mind and seen her heart.  He had never denied her the comfort and safety of his arms, but he couldn’t give it as freely anymore.  As long as she got away with getting what she needed from him, she would never want more.  She looked up at him, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“Go home, Scully.”

 

“Mulder…”

 

“Go home.”  Mulder turned away from her and went into his apartment. He shut the door behind him without looking back and then sagged against it, hoping he had not taken a step in the wrong direction.

 

****************************************

 

VII. Millennium

 

Scully paced her living room floor, unconsciously biting her thumbnail and tapping her cordless phone against her hip. She had lost count of how many times she had started dialing Mulder’s number, only to hang up before she finished. Something had shifted within her in the week they had off after New Year’s.  Mulder hadn’t called her once the whole time, and after only two days without a phone call, she had called him, relieved to hear his voice. She called him every day thereafter under the pretense of checking up on the progress of his recovery, but really she just needed to hear his voice.

 

Scully knew what Mulder was doing. He hadn’t touched her in weeks, not like how she’d grown accustomed to over the last year.  He greeted her every morning and said good night at the end of every work day, and then it ended there.  There were no middle of the night phone calls, no suggestions that they order in and review files at her place or his, no flimsy excuses to stop by just to spend time together.  He was playing hard to get and she was falling for it.  The kiss he gave her at midnight less than a week ago was like a drop of water to someone dying of thirst.  She needed to see him and she needed more.

 

Scully looked at the keypad on her phone and started dialing.  Mulder picked up on the third ring.

 

“Mulder,” he said. 

“Mulder, it’s me.”

 

“Hey, Scully.”

 

“How’s your shoulder?”

 

“About the same as when you asked yesterday.”

 

“Sorry, I…”

 

“It’s all right, Scully.  Just a little sore still.”

 

“Okay.”  Scully lost her nerve and then went silent.  She closed her eyes and pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead, trying to will herself to say something. Anything.

 

“Is everything all right, Scully?”

 

“It’s fine.  It’s…I was calling because…um…”

 

Mulder chuckled.  “Miss me, Scully?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Scully expected a smartass remark to her honesty, but Mulder made no reply. 

 

“I’ve been thinking about ice cream.” Scully said, cringing after she spoke and then rubbed the wrinkles out of her forehead with the back of her hand.

 

“What about ice cream?”

 

“I think I’d like to take it out of the freezer.”

 

Scully held her breath.  There was an extended silence that followed, lasting only seconds, but it felt like minutes.  A blush spread across Scully’s cheeks, down her neck and to her chest.

 

“Are you at home?” Mulder asked, quietly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Stay there,” he said, and disconnected.

 

The next hour was torturous for Scully. Every sound she heard made her jump, so much so that she turned her stereo on low to mask any noises, but the classical station she normally listened to was playing Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony and the music gave her more anxiety than she already had. She spent a considerable amount of time pondering her outfit and contemplating her make-up, but she felt like putting too much effort would only result in trying to be someone she was not. She settled for freshening up a bit and throwing on a pair of casual black slacks and a fitted blue t-shirt. She was still in the bathroom, smelling various perfumes and trying to come to a decision when she heard the knock on her door.

 

“You can do this,” she said to the mirror as she spritzed her wrist with the perfume she was holding.

 

Scully opened the door for Mulder while taking a step back, giving him ample room to enter her apartment.  She quietly pushed the door closed behind him and flipped the lock before she turned to look at him.  He had on a pair of jeans and a dark grey sweater.  The white t-shirt he wore underneath the sweater peeked out of the collar and contrasted with his black leather jacket. In short, he looked like he had stepped out of a J Crew catalog and Scully loved him for it and hated him for looking so calmly and perfectly put together at the same time.

 

Mulder held up a plastic shopping bag, causing Scully to jerk out of her fog of admiration and blink in surprise. “What’s this?” she asked, taking the bag from Mulder.

 

“Ice cream,” Mulder answered with a smile.

 

Scully closed her eyes and gave an amused snort accompanied by a small smile.  “Rum Raisin?” she asked, pulling the pint out of the bag.  Her nose wrinkled a little in disdain.

 

“You don’t like it?” Mulder asked.

 

“Not really.”

 

“It was slim pickin’s at the bodega and I didn’t think you’d appreciate vanilla.”  Mulder gave an apologetic shrug.  “I’ll make it up to you.”

 

“Oh, will you?”  Scully bit her lip and blushed a little at her tone. She sounded like she was flirting. Then again, she was flirting. She shook her head and turned away to head to the kitchen.  She stored the ice cream in the freezer and then threw the bag away.  Before she’d closed the cabinet under the sink where she kept the garbage can, Mulder’s arms were around her waist and his chest was against her back and his cheek was against her temple.

 

“God, you smell good,” Mulder whispered.

 

Instantly, Scully was liquefied. Heat spread through her starting low in her stomach, moving up to her chest and neck and down to her groin and thighs. She lost her breath for a moment and bent forward at the hips ever so slightly just to find air. As she sucked in a breath, her head rolled back against Mulder’s shoulder.  Very slowly, she bent her elbow and turned her wrist to him. Mulder grasped her forearm and brought her wrist to his face, pressing his nose and cheek to the inside of her arm. It made her knees tremble.

 

“Mulder,” she whispered.

 

“Is the freezer open or closed right now, Scully?”

 

“It’s open.”

 

“Good.”  Mulder curled his fingers over Scully’s and joined their hands. Scully turned her head up to him and Mulder’s mouth covered hers before she’d even lifted her chin. In no way did it bear any resemblance to the chaste kiss he gave her on New Year’s.  This kiss came with need and desire.  She whimpered unconsciously, overwhelmed.

 

Mulder broke off their kiss first, moving his lips from her mouth to her neck to her shoulder and back to her neck. Scully felt as though she could barely stand at that point, but Mulder was effectively keeping her on her feet just by holding her so tightly.  She squirmed in his arms, wanting to face him, but it was difficult to do with his arm braced over her ribs, just under her breasts, and the heat of his breath against her skin making her lose concentration.

 

“I need to see you,” Scully murmured, squeezing Mulder’s fingers.

 

Mulder dropped her hand and relaxed his grip just enough so that Scully could shift her hips and turn around to face him. She grabbed on to his ears when his lips immediately sought hers out in a new kiss, this one bending her back slightly against the counter.  The new position gave her more of an opportunity to participate in the kiss. They changed angles several times. Scully wrapped her arms around Mulder’s neck.  Mulder ran his hands down over her hips and over her backside.  It was only when Mulder leaned so far into her and a telltale hardness pressed into her thigh that they both split apart, foreheads pressed together, both breathing hard, lips wet.

 

“Scully?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are we doing this?”

 

Scully looked into Mulder’s eyes, unsurprised by the longing and fear she saw in them.  “Yes,” she said, holding his face in her hands. “We’re doing this.”

 

****************************************

 

VIII. Rush

 

Mulder woke at the sound of a heater turning on. He didn’t know at the time it was a heater, but he heard a click and a soft whoosh and then he felt warm air across his back.  Taking a deep breath, Mulder pulled his arms out from the pillow they were stuffed under and moved up on his elbows, raising his head as well to look around. He smiled to himself and then quietly laid his head back down, shifting just a little so his weight was on his side and shoulder as he did so.

 

The heater had not woken Scully, as she was most likely accustomed to the noises of her own apartment.  She was sound asleep on her back, her head turned so that her chin rested on her own shoulder, facing Mulder.  Mulder took the opportunity to study her without fear of being caught staring.  He liked seeing her so peaceful; not a hint of a stress wrinkle, not a hint of tension anywhere on her pale, smooth skin.  He loved the way her lips were parted in relaxation and he took notice of the fact that her upper lip curved a little higher on the left side, beckoning him towards the wonderful little speck of a mole he used to be so familiar with, but that she’d suddenly started hiding early on in their partnership. He would have to ask her why she did that sometime.  In the meantime, he thought he might try to memorize the placement of every freckle on her face so he could envision those as well since they had also suffered the fate of her mole.

 

Mulder let his gaze travel from her face and he watched the steady rise and fall of her bare chest, knowing she would probably kill him if she knew he could spend all morning admiring the softness and curves of her breasts and thinking of how perfectly they fit in his hands and his mouth as though they were made for him alone.  Scully would definitely not like that after one night together he now thought of her body as belonging to him, not in a possessively caveman way, but that he was one lucky bastard to be allowed to touch her. And he knew he was allowed to because she’d told him that last night.  “Touch me, Mulder,” she’d whispered, in a tone that was as permissive as it was pleading and still commanding.  So, he touched her.  He touched every square inch of her.

 

All the thoughts of touching made Mulder restless and he reached out and stroked the side of Scully’s face lightly. Her brows lifted momentarily and she took a deep breath, turning her head to the other side and back again. Briefly, her eyes opened and she murmured Mulder’s name as they slid shut.  By this time, Mulder had moved closer and put an arm around her waist, dragging her body towards his and closing the small gap between them. He kissed her shoulder and her collarbone and the curve of one breast, all the while running his hand over her hip and down her thigh and up her side.

 

“Mulder,” she said, sleepily, rubbing her legs together and leaning in to his hand.

 

“Relax,” Mulder said.  “Let me do all the work.”

 

Mulder was in no hurry. He continued to caress her body with his left hand, teasing her senses.  He learned that when he would sweep low on her abdomen, her muscles would involuntarily clench and her thighs would tense.  Her back would arch just a little and she’d sigh softly in frustration. He learned that when his fingers played against the inside of her thigh her toes would curl and her nails scratched at the sheet.  When he finally touched her center, her head tipped back and she opened her mouth with a short intake of breath.  Her parted lips looked too inviting.

 

Stretching his neck a little, Mulder was able to catch Scully’s lower lip in a kiss.  He had a different aim, however, and ducked his head down before Scully tried to return the kiss.  He moved over her, rising above her with his hands pressed on either side of her elbows. He blazed a wet trail of kisses over her chest, making sure to give attention to both breasts before moving on and down to her abdomen.

 

Suddenly, there was a muffled ring from the foot of the bed and Mulder lifted his head from Scully’s solar plexus. Scully tensed and opened her eyes, looking up at Mulder before stretching her neck to peer over the side of the bed.

 

“It’s my cell,” Mulder said.  “Ignore it.”

 

“What if?”

 

“I’m busy,” Mulder answered, to whatever question Scully was about to form.  He moved down from his hands and knees to rest his weight against Scully, his torso cradled between her thighs, and resumed kissing his way down her abdomen. His phone stopped ringing just as he’d cleared her belly button, but he hadn’t made it much further before Scully’s phone started.

 

“Mulder,” Scully groaned.

 

“Don’t answer it.”

 

Scully gripped the sheets by her hips and Mulder glanced up at her.  Her face was contorted into a grimace and her eyes were squeezed shut.  On the fourth ring of the phone, Scully growled and quickly reached over to her nightstand, swiping the phone off the table.

 

“Scully,” she breathed.

 

Mulder shook his head slightly and resumed with his intentions.  He knew he was playing with fire, but that was okay.  He listened to her conversation, aware that Skinner was on the other end, the thought of which almost made him chuckle, even as his tongue grazed the inside line of Scully’s thigh.

 

“Yes sir,” Scully said.  “Don’t apologize, I’m sure my alarm would be going off soon. Yes, sir.  No, I wasn’t aware of any requests.  I spoke with Agent Mulder last night, I assume he just isn’t in reach of his phone.”

 

As she spoke, she swatted at Mulder’s shoulder, trying to push him away from her with very little effort.  The only effect it truly had was to make Mulder more determined to play.  Mulder suddenly seized Scully’s hips and brought his mouth down on target.  Scully gasped and with her free hand, latched onto Mulder’s hair and yanked his head up.  He grinned devilishly up at her through the pain and then licked his lips.

 

“Yes, everything’s fine.  I will try to get in touch with Agent Mulder as soon as I hang up here.  Yes, sir. Good bye.”

 

Scully disconnected her phone call and then let go of Mulder’s hair.  Mulder scrambled to move up her body as she twisted to put the phone back and before she could yell at him for trying to distract her while on a call with their boss, he kissed her. Hard.  Pressing her down to the bed and holding her against him at the same time.  She moaned into his mouth as he slid into her with a mild amount of fumbling, both of them not yet familiar enough with each other to be so easy.  She pushed at his shoulders and he drew his head back so she could look at him.  It was one of the first things he discovered last night, how much she liked to see his face.

 

Mulder paused in his slow thrusts and brushed his nose back and forth against Scully’s in a light Eskimo kiss. Scully smiled as she brought her arms around Mulder’s neck.  She fought the sheets with her feet to be able to bend her knees and bring her calves up to grip Mulder’s hips.  He resumed making love to her, focusing on learning the meaning of her sighs and moans and movements to catalog them for future reference.

 

When they were both expended, Mulder rolled away to wipe the sweat from his forehead.  He pulled Scully to him, disregarding how hot he felt, and peppered her face with kisses.

 

“Am I in trouble?” Mulder asked.

 

“Mmm.”  Scully chuckled a little, turning her face to soak in Mulder’s attention.

 

“You’ll probably want to make the rules now.”

 

“Rules?”

 

“No sleepovers on school nights. No hanky panky on the road. Those sort of rules.”

 

Scully pushed herself up with a hand on Mulder’s chest and cocked her head.  “Is that what you want?  No, the better question is, is that what you think I want?”

 

“Well…” Mulder was hesitant to answer. “You like rules, don’t you?”

 

“I like structure.  I mean, Mulder, for one thing, has there ever been a rule you haven’t broken?”  Scully lifted an eyebrow and stared down at him, her lips bunched into a bemused smile.

 

Mulder tucked Scully’s hair back over her ear. “Yours.”

 

“Mulder…” Scully ducked her head as her cheeks darkened with color.

 

“What?”

 

“I think we’ve had enough rules imposed on us over the years, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

“I would.”

 

“I don’t think we need to hide anything, but I don’t plan on making any announcements in an interoffice memo.”

 

Scully’s alarm sounded and she rolled away from Mulder to turn it off.  She lay back down and stretched, looking over to Mulder.  Mulder rested his hand on her bare stomach, running a finger back and forth across her skin.

 

“You can shower first,” Scully said.

 

“Or we can conserve water.”  Mulder waggled his brows at Scully suggestively.

 

“I’m supposed to tell you that the request to follow up on the Pittsfield matter has been approved.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“First day back from vacation and you want to travel?”

 

“It’s only an hour away, Scully. You’ll like it.”

 

“Like I’ll like a quick trip to the forest, Mulder? It’s too cold for that.”

 

“So I’ll pack a sleeping bag.” Mulder grinned and placed a quick kiss on Scully’s mouth before he got out of bed.  “I’ll leave the file for you before I go. It’s in the car.”

 

“How did you manage to gather a file when you’ve been on vacation?”  Scully lifted her hand and shook her head.  “Never mind, stupid question.”

 

Mulder leaned over the bed and hovered over Scully, smiling at her.  “Good morning, dear.”

 

Scully narrowed her eyes at Mulder and then laughed at the silly grin on his face.  She grasped Mulder’s chin between her thumb and index finger and lifted her head to kiss him through her smile.  “Good morning, yourself.”

 

****************************************

 

IX. all things

 

Scully was jolted awake by the sensation of falling. She wasn’t falling though, she was being lifted.  She struggled a little, confused.

 

“It’s all right, Scully.”

 

“Mulder, what are you doing?”

 

“Taking you to bed.”

 

Scully relaxed and brought her arms around Mulder’s neck.  His apartment was dark. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but felt badly about it because the conversation they’d been having had been so lovely. The weekend had wiped her out, but the truth was, she’d been feeling tired for a few weeks – ever since her excursion with CGB Spender - and they’d spent an embarrassing amount of time in bed making amends, she’d been feeling a little sluggish.

 

“I’m sorry I was grouchy,” Scully said as Mulder lowered her to his bed.  “I’m sorry I didn’t go to England with you.”

 

“You had your hands full with your own adventure anyway,” Mulder answered.  His bedside lamp was on low and she slowly blinked at him with tired eyes. He smiled and slid his hands up her leg to the side zipper at her skirt and began to undress her.

 

“I was thinking,” Scully said.

 

“That’s a dangerous pastime.”

 

Scully weakly smacked Mulder’s shoulder and then yawned, dropping her hand to cover her mouth.

 

“What were you thinking about?” Mulder asked.

 

“How we never really know if something is significant until we look back on the meaning.”

 

“That’s why they say hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

 

“But, wouldn’t it be nice if we knew in the moment? Maybe we could appreciate it more.”

 

“Maybe.”  Mulder put his hand under Scully’s back and moved her up to remove her blazer.

 

“Mulder, I know why it took me so long to give in to you.”

 

Mulder raised his brows.  “Give in to me?”

 

“To stop resisting, is that better?”

 

Mulder pulled Scully’s shirt off and then lay down next to her and propped his head up on his fist.  “It’s not how I would put it, but go on.”

 

“How would you put it?”

 

“Well I wouldn’t compare it to coercion.”

 

“All right then.  I know what it was I was afraid of.  Why it took me so long to overcome those fears.”

 

“You were afraid that if we got involved, it would just be another piece of ammunition to use against us.”

 

Scully turned her head in a better angle to look at Mulder and frowned a little.  “Is that what you were afraid of?”

 

“I was.  Until I realized that it’d already been done so many times before, what more would being together do except give us the happiness we deserved?”

 

Scully put two fingers on Mulder’s jaw and then let her hand drop back down to the bed.  “I thought of things like that too,” she said.  “But, much earlier.  The first time we lost the X files.”

 

Mulder blinked in surprise and his head jerked up from his fist.  It took a few moments before he relaxed again, but his eyes were wide and lips were puckered into a question.

 

“What do you mean by that, Scully?” he asked.

 

“I imagined I’d made my feelings pretty obvious to them when I risked my job and my life to track you down in Puerto Rico. Call it hindsight, Mulder, but in some ways, I believe it might by why I was taken.”

 

“Scully…” Mulder reached down and held Scully’s face. He stroked her cheek and he ran his hand down her arm and held her face again like he was full of nerves. His eyes had filled with tears.

 

“Mulder, don’t, it’s okay.”

 

“It’s not okay.”

 

“No, it is.  Honestly, I…this isn’t what I was getting at.  That was never what I was afraid of.  They’ve already done so much to us in so many ways, it was never going to matter how we felt.  We’ve been pawns from the beginning, you more than me, and we both know that.”

 

“But, because of me-“

 

“No,” Scully cut Mulder off, covering his mouth with her hand.  “Never because of you. Because of them.”

 

Mulder closed his eyes and after a long while of silence, he nodded softly and turned his head to move Scully’s hand away.

 

“Mulder, I’ve loved you for a very long time, and I know you have as well.  But, so much of our time together, the moments when we were the closest, were spent in grief or sadness. Normal people vow to stay together in good times and in bad with the expectation that the bad times would be few and far between, but for us, the bad times were our normal. I was afraid of what would happen when we chose to be happy.”

 

“You’re not happy?”

 

“Only you, Mulder.”  Scully ran her hand through Mulder’s hair and pressed on the back of his head.  He rested his forehead against hers.  “I was speaking in past tense, in case you missed it.”

 

“You never told me why you called me that night.”

 

“What night?”

 

“The night we defrosted.”

 

Scully chuckled lightly.  “I missed you,” she said.  “It surprised me how much I missed you.  I also did a lot of thinking about what I could do differently in the New Year and I realized that if I wasn’t choosing happiness, I was choosing unhappiness.”

 

“You could’ve had a different life. You could’ve stayed with Daniel. Been a doctor. Had children.”

 

“I could have.  Just as much as you could’ve stayed with Diana or moved up at VCS and never found the X files.  Would you choose that?”

 

Mulder shook his head.  Scully lifted her head and gave him a soft kiss. He followed her head down to the bed and draped his arm over her half-naked body.  She moved her hand under Mulder’s t-shirt and ran her nails lightly over his back, thinking about all that had happened to them throughout the year, good and bad.  Mulder had lost his mother, but freed himself from the memory of his sister, and Scully was by his side to help him sort through the pieces.  Scully had to overcome the demon that was Donnie Pfaster, but this time she’d allowed Mulder to help her through it.  They’d lost a baby that had existed only as an idea and that had hurt. It had hurt a lot.

 

Meanwhile they’d had fun in Chicago, they’d learned a few magic tricks on a case, they’d enjoyed the California sunshine while consulting on a movie set of a film loosely based on one of their cases that would be out later in the year.  They’d had good times and bad and had gotten through both.

 

“Didn’t you once ask me if I had to do things all over again, would I still do it the same?” Scully asked.

 

“You told me you wouldn’t change a day.”

 

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Scully said, making herself more comfortable in Mulder’s arms.  “This is where I want to be.”

 

“This is where I want you to be too,” Mulder whispered back. 

 

Scully yawned.  “I have to be up early tomorrow, Mulder.  I’ll try not to wake you.”

 

“Secret rendezvous?” Mulder asked, turning his head and pressing his face into her neck, breathing her in.

 

“Yes, I’m having an affair with my dentist.”

 

“Is he better looking than me?”

 

“Only a little.”

 

Scully felt Mulder smile against her neck. “You need me to set the alarm?”

 

“I’ll wake up.”

 

They lay quietly and Scully listened to the rain begin to fall outside, tapping lightly against the window. Mulder breathed softly in her ear. The ceiling fan above them was on low, giving a small click with every lazy revolution.  She soaked in the quiet ambiance, letting it lull her.

 

“Scully?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“If he was a flavor of ice cream, what would he be?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Your hot dentist.”

 

Scully smiled and pulled Mulder’s arm over her a little tighter.  “Rum raisin,” she answered.  “Go to sleep.”

 

“Good night, dear.”

 

“Night, Mulder.”

 

 

THE END

 

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